


Classroom Distractions

by milieumarch



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, NOT Student/Professor, Professor AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 12:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11714208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milieumarch/pseuds/milieumarch
Summary: Everybody taking one of Professor Killian Jones' lectures knew Mrs. Jones.  Or, if they didn't know she was actually his wife, they knew the blonde woman who he called "Swan" and who occasionally snuck into the room and made their professor's always-excited grin grow even wider.





	Classroom Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> This story has gotten so much great reception everywhere, and I just joined ao3, so it's going up here! Enjoy!

Everybody taking one of Professor Killian Jones’ lectures knew Mrs. Jones. Or, if they didn’t know she was actually his wife, they knew the blonde woman who he called “Swan” and who occasionally snuck into the room and made their professor’s always excited grin grow even wider.

She first appeared in the middle of his Ancient, Medieval, and Renaissance Political Theory lecture about three lectures into the class. About one-third of the female population was drooling over the handsome professor with the accent talking about the Spartan system of government when the blonde woman slid into the room and sat in the chair behind his desk as he lectured in front of the projector.

The students who first noticed her assumed she was an older student who was either playing a prank or trying to catch the eye of Professor Jones by doing something bold. However, when the man caught sight of her, he merely smiled and asked, “Well, Swan, since you seem so eager to learn, can you tell me who first imposed this code of laws on Sparta?”

She frowned thoughtfully and responded, “Lucretius?”

He chuckled. “Lycurgus, love. But I can tell you’re listening.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before turning back to his class. “Let’s go ahead and take our break now. Five minutes and be back here.”

As the students stood up and stretched, the professor sat on his desk and pulled the woman to her feet between his knees.

“Is this how you treat all your students who get answers wrong?” Emma teased, kissing his cheek.

“You should see what happens when they get them right.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Where did I even get the name Lucretius? Is that another one of your historical crushes?”

“The only person I have a crush on is you, Swan. Well, maybe Sam Bellamy, but this class doesn’t get up to his time. But Lucretius, Epicurean philosopher known for first particles, the void, and the swerve. We can read some De Rerum Natura at home if you’d like. I’ve got a copy of the original Latin.” He grinned impishly.

“How could I pass up an offer like that? Now, don’t you have a class to be teaching?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind their break being a little longer,” he mumbled before kissing her softly.

Emma pulled back after a couple seconds. “Professor Jones, is this for extra credit?”

He growled and rested his forehead on hers. “Insufferable woman.” He kissed her one more time then stepped back. “I do have to teach now. Are you staying or will I see you at home?”

“Oh, I’m staying. Without me here, you’ll get into some heated academic debate again and I won’t see you until midnight.”

She settled back into his chair and he signaled to his class to take their seats.

* * *

After that day, both Professor Jones’ political theory and English history lectures saw Emma at least once a week, often twice. Sometimes she got a question tossed at her, while others he waited for the break or the end before walking over to the woman. Tales about the handsome professor and his blonde wife were soon widespread across the history department.

One day, right before midterms, Emma walked in and practically collapsed in the chair. Usually she attentively listened and watched the professor, but this day, she crossed her arms on the table and rested her head on them. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Killian noticed this and slid his blazer off his shoulders before crossing the front of the room and settling the jacket over her. This earned him an ‘Awww!’ from most of the girls in the room, as they’d all long abandoned their crushes on him in favor of admiring his relationship with Emma. He smiled sheepishly and continued with the lecture until it was time to go to break.

“Swan, wake up,” he whispered as the students relaxed. “You’re ruining my street cred as the meanest professor.”

She smiled blearily at him. “I heard it was hottest.”

“Either way, love, there’s already enough actual students sleeping through my War of the Roses lecture. Why are you here and not at home in a bed?”

Emma stood and leaned against him with her head on his shoulder. “Wanted to see you. Home is quiet when you’re not there.”

He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple. “Love, you’d sleep much better.”

“Not without you.”

“Will you at least go sleep on the couch in my office? It’s far more comfortable. I’ll be back there in an hour or so.”

She nodded against his collarbone as he handed her his set of keys. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Now go get some rest.” He kissed her forehead once more before nudging her towards the door.

* * *

It was only a couple weeks after this incident that everyone in Killian’s English history lecture got a mysterious email:

_If you are receiving this email, it is because you are a member of Professor Jones’s English History: The Ancients to the Stuarts lecture. Please be in the Hodges Lecture Hall on Tuesday at 5:30 pm. This will be worth part of your final grade._

_Jones_

The students milled into the large room around the requested time only to be met, not by their professor, but by the blonde woman.

“Hi, everyone!” she said into the microphone of the podium. “Uh, I don’t normally address you. Also I lied about this determining your grade. But Thursday, when you have your next history lecture is Kill—Professor Jones’ birthday. And I owe him some embarrassment from my last birthday. So can you help me out?” There were murmurs of assent throughout the crowd. “Well, I’ve got lots of noisemakers. And these party hats. So if you each take one of each and show up a couple of minutes early for class that day, I’ll make sure that he’s not early. And when he walks in, just make as much noise as possible or sing happy birthday or something. Can you do that?”

The students scrambled to grab the cone-shaped hats and noisemakers from the desk that Emma had them laid out on. She offered them a shy smile as they passed by her and many of them nodded in return.

Two days later, Professor Jones’ lecture hall was filled with college students donning party hats with noisemakers in their hands five minutes before the class began. Fifteen seconds before the class was supposed to begin (the latest Professor Jones has ever been), he stumbled into the room. “Sorry for my tardiness.”

The whole room exploded with kazoo-like sounds and shouts of “Happy birthday, Professor!” In one corner, a group of students started up some off-key singing.

Professor Jones nearly dropped his notes at all the noise then looked up with an amused grin on his lips. His eyes darted to the doorway that he had just entered through where Emma was doubled over in laughter. He strode back over to her and wrapped his arms around her middle before spinning her. He dragged her over to the podium and gestured for her to speak.

“He’s blushing. Thanks, guys!” she chuckled. “Uh, have a good class.” She tried to make her way to the door, but the professor pulled her into his side.

“Thank you, all! But now, if you’re done conspiring with my wife, I’d like you to put away the hats and we can get back to your educations.” Emma kissed his cheek.

“Happy birthday, Killian.”

“I love you, Swan,” he murmured back, releasing her. With a small wave to the class, Emma walked out of the room and Killian pulled up the slideshow for the day.

* * *

“Hey, Jones!” Killian turned from the printer to see one of the other history professors waving at him.

“Locksley! Don’t you have young minds to be corrupting?”

Robin laughed as he walked over. “I could say the same to you. But I’ve been hearing some interesting whispers amongst the students.”

“Are they planning a mutiny?”

“They always are. But no, these are some of the students in your lecture. They’re talking about some blonde who’s frequently spotted sneaking into your lecture hall?” Robin waggled his eyebrow.

“Aye, that would be Emma. Since she’s out catching the bad guys a lot of evenings, she visits during the day.”

“She’s not disturbing you, is she? I don’t need to call campus safety and have her escorted from the premises.”

“Sod off. You’re just jealous because your wife won’t visit you since she’s too busy ruling the town.”

“Regina visited me just last week,” Robin replied smugly.

Killian grinned. “Emma visited yesterday.”

“We can’t all have your fairytale romance. Just wanted to give you a heads-up that the head of the department knows about her, but says that he won’t say anything as long as she’s not disrupting anything.”

“You are the head of the department, you git.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

Emma’s entrances into the lectures brought only cute, affectionate moments until one day a few weeks before finals.

A little over half-an-hour before the end of a political theory lecture, Emma snuck in. She looked exhausted and was clutching her arm to her chest. Killian looked at her warmly but did a double take as he registered a cut on her arm and the way the skin below her eye was swelling and darkening.

“Swan,” he cried in a strangled voice. Then, a bit louder, voice shaking a bit and eyes not leaving his wife, “Class is dismissed. I’ll hold extra office hours sometime to make up for it.”

The students confusedly packed up their things as Killian rushed to Emma’s side. “Emma, love,” he murmured.

“He was a bit meaner than expected,” she replied. “But I got him.” She gave him a weak smile.

“Come on, darling. We’re going to the hospital.” He pulled on her uninjured arm.

“Killian, it’s fine. I just need some rest. You didn’t have to end your class.”

“No, Swan. That arm needs to be looked at. And that cut probably needs some tending, too.”

“Killian,” she protested weakly.

“Swan,” he grumbled, “no arguments.” He tilted his forehead until it was resting against hers. “Please, love? For me?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Killian. I should’ve been more alert.”

“No, love, this is not on you. You’re here, love, and you’re going to be okay,” he responded, pulling her to her feet and leading her out the door.

* * *

Two days later, Professor Jones was starting his lecture for English history when a student raised her hand. “A question! Yes?”

“How’s Emma?”

Killian blinked. “Er, I was expecting questions about the English Civil War.” He trailed off but the students continued to stare at him expectantly. “Well, she’s back at home pouting with a broken arm. But she’s okay. Going to drive me up the wall.” The students laughed. “But okay.” He paused. “Wait a second, didn’t that happen in my other class? How do you all know about it?”

The class responded with a chorus of names of students in his other lecture. “Are you telling me that my students are gossiping with each other about my wife?”

A resounding “Yes!” from the class.

Professor Jones scoffed. “Use all that free time for studying! Now, back to Cromwell.” He gave his lecture on the disturbances of the English government and then dismissed the class.

Several of his students gathered near his podium to speak to him. “Oh, hello. Provocative lecture,” he muttered to himself before turning to the first in line.

“I just wanted to ask you to tell Emma that we hope she’s better soon,” the young woman started.

“Ah, yes, okay. I’m sure she would agree with that sentiment. Uh, thank you.”

“Thanks, Professor Jones. Good lecture today.” She scampered off.

One of the young men from his class was next. “Uh, tell Emma I hope she gets well soon. She gave me some advice for my paper in this class a few weeks ago and it really helped.”

“When has Emma been giving advice to my students?”

“It was a while ago. You were talking to someone after class or something.”

“Oh, well, I’ll pass on the notice. I’ll even give her your name. You’re Henry Mills, right?”

“Yeah. Bye, Professor Jones!”

Killian looked at the eight or so other students lined up. “Are all of you here to send Emma your well-wishes?”

They nodded simultaneously.

Killian grinned. “I will tell her that the class was quite concerned about her health. Will that do?” They thanked him and left the lecture hall swiftly.

* * *

“Maybe you should teach this class, lass,” Killian teased his wife.

Emma rolled her eyes. “I don’t know anything about Machiavelli.”

“I think my students like you more than me.”

“That’s because I’m not the one grading their finals,” she retorted.

Killian was standing between her legs while she was perched on his desk before the lecture started.

“So, what’s on the syllabus for today, teach?”

“You already guessed it. Machiavelli. Specifically, his discussion on republics, Discourses on Livy.”

“Oh, Dr. Jones, you do know how to make a girl swoon.”

“Just wait until you hear me talk about devolutions towards tyranny.” His lips met hers for a few seconds. “Are you sure you want to be here listening to me ramble and not in my office, maybe elevating that arm?” He gave a pointed glare to the cast around her left arm.

“Not my first broken bone. Plus, who will beat back all your admirers once you start talking about the falls of empires?”

“Didn’t you hear me say that they like you more than me? I’d be more concerned about your admirers.” He pinched her side which elicited giggles from her.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to watch each other’s backs. I won’t take my eyes off of you.”

He winked at her. “I would despair if you did.” With a final chaste kiss (and whistles from some of the students), he called his class to order.

* * *

Killian walked into his English history lecture on the last day carrying the feared stack of papers: final exams.

“The day is finally here! Exams today and don’t forget that your research papers are due by midnight on Fri—” He trailed off as he caught sight of the projector turned on. “Did one of you hack into the projector?”

Several students giggled and then an image flashed onto the screen.

The professor smiled widely and turned back to the students. “Can I go grab Emma from my office and show her this?” He got several “yes’s” and shooing motions from the class, so he bolted through the door.

He came back a minute later, exams still clutched to his chest in one hand and other hand dragging Emma through the door. “Swan, look at what these punks did!” He grinned and turned her to the projector.

Emma laughed at the screen and pressed into his side. Killian quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple.

“It’s almost like they think it will get them extra credit on this exam!” he shouted in the direction of the class, eliciting several groans.

He strode over to the podium as Emma slipped out of the room. “All right, we’ve had our fun. But now it’s exam time. And essays on Friday!”

He passed the exams to each row and then settled into his desk chair, looking up at the screen with one last chuckle. There was a picture obviously taken with a mediocre cell phone camera from afar of he and Emma talking during some break and underneath was the caption:

_Storybrooke University’s Cutest Couple_

_Killian and Emma Jones_


End file.
